


Date Night

by Little_Firestar84



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Community: mentalist_bb, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 21:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1757119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Firestar84/pseuds/Little_Firestar84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all happens in one long night, and Jane and Lisbon’s first attempt at dating results in disaster. Between miscommunication issues, the police, a terrible dinner and an ex showing up, will Teresa admit defeat, or will she give her consultant a second chance at making it right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Date Night

**Author's Note:**

> Witten for the Mentalist Big bang on LiveJournal; many thanks to branquignole, who provided the art for thsi fic.   
> title from the 2012 movie featuring Tina Fey and Steve Carell, the story is set sometimes after the season 6 episode “My Blue Heaven”.

The first time he had tried to ask Lisbon out on a date, she had blatantly refused him.

It had happened shortly after he had returned from his exile, and they had started to work together again. He had tried to be casual, and yet charming about it. At the end of the evening, he had opened her the car door and, stepping into her personal space, had looked at her adoringly. He had gotten so close she could have breathe his same air, and Jane had made eye-contact, lifting her chin with two fingers like a seasoned seducer, saying simply “Have dinner with me” in a low, seductive, matter-of-fact voice. It wasn’t really a question-because he was honestly convinced that Lisbon was interested in him, and had been for quite a while. 

But then, she had said the words that no man wants to hear leaving his beloved’s lips. “I’m sorry, Jane, but I can’t date you.” And then, she had left, like she hadn’t been part of the spell that had fell upon him as soon as he had started looking into her marvelous, huge green eyes.

It had stung. He wasn’t going to lie about it, and after that, he didn’t know how to behave around her any longer. He had tried to make his intentions clear, but it had been useless.Her actions said she wasn’t interested in him, and yet he saw the lingering looks when she believed he wasn’t paying attention. He noticed how she behaved when another woman was around, trying to charm her way into his life. She was jealous and possessive of him, all signs that she was, indeed, interested in pursuing a relationship with him.

And even if he wasn’t so good at dating any longer, rusty after over a decade of celibacy, he was interested in her as well, and he didn’t want to let it go. He wasn’t going to lie about it: he had tried to date after Angela’s death. But they had never really felt like dates. 

At first, he thought it was because he felt guilty towards his late family, but after a while- and especially his “I am exiling myself for a while because I need to think about what’s going to be of my life now that Red John is gone, and also because I’m wanted for many crimes, murder the lesser of them ” leave of absence- he realized it wasn’t the case. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to date: he was simply dating the wrong women, and every time he had dinner with a member of the female species, it was always with the intention of kissing her goodnight _, on the cheek_ , and then goodbye.

There was a woman, though, that he was (sort of) dating, and he was serious about. Someone he could see himself with in the long run- someone that he _wanted_ to be with in the long run. And that woman was Lisbon. The same woman who didn’t ( _couldn’t_ , according to her words) date him. 

So, he decided to use subterfuges to slowly manipulate her into accepting the fact that they were, indeed, dating. His first rule was to never use that word. Teresa Lisbon wasafraid of commitment, and she probably knew that he was in for the long haul; she was scared to death by the prospective of spending the rest of her existence with him.

He also did his best to stop himself from telling herself exactly how much of a goner he was, that he had been crazy in love with her for the better part of a decade. And then, there was his favorite subterfuge: he often made her jealous. He let her believe he was dating other women- when all he was doing was going out with suspects and the sort to get information and confessions.

As long as he followed his rules and kept her in the dark, Teresa was ok with spending time with him, not seeing any harm in what they were pursuing.

“ _Hanging out_ ”, she called it. 

He hated that expression, because it made it sound like they were two teenagers with a crush, or even just siblings – brother and sister, like foolishly Cho had once said about them. But what was he supposed to do? He knew that he had to work (hard) to make room for himselfin her heart and life: with dinners and breakfast, naps on her couch-both at the office, close to her desk, and at her place-sport games, outings and so on. 

But after a while, he started to get mad. 

She didn’t want to admit they were dating, and yet she wasn’t going out with any man- and, as much ashe hated to admit it, she knew that when he was dating any woman it was only for work-related issues. 

They had even gone to the opera together, once; he had worn a tuxedo, and Lisbon a long dress, and they had even gone to dinner in a nice, expensive restaurant afterwards. If she didn’t call it a date, what was it? 

_ That _ had been the proverbial last drop, what had made him realize it was time to take action and make her understand where he stood and what he wanted with her-a real, adult relationship, and not a teenage romance or a sibling relationship.

So, he decided it was time to try again to formally ask her out on a date.

Only, when he dropped her at her place that afternoon and decided to drop the proverbial bomb on Lisbon, he got scared of her potential rejection, and instead of being a full of himself-sure as hell jackass, he just blurted something out that soundedawfully like. “So… some food later?” 

At which she answered with a “Sure, see you at eight then,” before disappearing in her own apartment with a smile: all the evidence he needed to confirm the fact that no, she didn’t think he had just asked her out on a date.

Life wasn’t fair. Just when he needed to be sure of himself, charming and brilliant, he failed at it completely. 

But maybe, if words escaped him, maybe he could make her understand his intentions with his actions: so, when he showed up at her door after having charmed his way into the one-month line to get a table at the greatest restaurant in town, he was wearing brand new clothes, shiny black shoes, had a tie and had even bough flowers for her. Red Roses- because as sophomoric as it could be, he needed to make her understand where he stood, and what was better than the flower of passion, carnal love and lust to open her eyes? 

He waited in his car, sweating and huffing, for over a half-hour, and then he rang her doorbell at precisely eight of clock. She was smiling radiant when she opened the door, and yet her smile died when she saw how well-dressed he was, and what flowers he had in his hands; she was “only” wearing old jeans and a boyish t-shirt a couple of sizes too big.

“Oh.” She told him as soon as she saw the ensemble. “ _Oh._ ” She repeated again, this time a bit like a sigh. Jane shook his head- he guessed it was his fault. He should have told her that he had plans for her… _Wait, no,_ he corrected himself. _it sounds dirty. Like I wanted to lure her in bed. Not that I don’t want to, but…_ He hated being unsure about that woman, and yet, he didn’t know how to behave any differently. She was special- and any time he met someone that special in his life, he got lost.

“Uhm… can I go and get changed?” She asked, showing him inside. Jane followed her, and he immediately found a vase for the flowers, putting them where she would see them before leaving for their date, just to make his point a little bit more.

He told her to take her time- reservations were at nine- and then he went to take a nap on her couch, oblivious to her inner troubles, and fell asleep, engulfed by her lulling scent that still permeated the fabric.

* * *

She was desperate. And for the first time in her life, Teresa Lisbon wished to have some kind of deep female bound in the world, didn’t matter with whom. She had never been awkward, never been the kind of girl who tensed over a date; things had always gone well for her, despite the lack of female advice. She had always been sure of herself in her own skin, proud of how and who she was (even if she still whished for a few more centimeters).

That was why she thought that her current position was pretty pathetic. At almost forty, a woman like her wasn't supposed to go crazy because she was going out on a date, didn't matter that the guy was Patrick Jane, one of the finest specimens of the male population and…

She didn't know how to say it. It was just that Jane was Jane. It kind of said it all. 

Or maybe, she was just scared. After all, they hadn’t been supposed to go out on a date together. She had believed it was going to be just something to eat like usual, and instead, he had showed himself at her doorstep clad with a brand new, shiny outfit and red roses. The flower of lust and desire.

Truth to be told, it was hard to explain what she was truly scared about, and Lisbon couldn't put herself the finger on it precisely. Maybe she was scared that, with Red John gone, he could just leave again, and this time once and for all; maybe she thought she wasn't enough for him, as, according to what she knew, his wife had been more or less an angel walking the Earth. Or maybe it was both those things, and much more at the same time. 

She didn't know. It was just so confusing! A part of her really wanted for things go back in time, when they were just partners on their way to become friends and nothing more. 

She huffed in annoyance, throwing yet another outfit on the bed, looking at the fabric with anger as she was a rabid dog. What the hell had happened to the woman who was so sure of herself, so confident in her own skin, that even higher ups, younger men and billionaires fell for her?

Patrick Jane had smiled his killer smile at her, _that_ was what had happened; she mused, blushing. Lord, she thought, she was behaving like a girl at her first crush, and if she was so gone now, she couldn't even dare to think about kissing or....

She shook her head, almost ashamed of herself, blushing all over. There was no way that she was going to think about Patrick Jane in the nude while getting ready for said man. Nope. Actually, she was quite positive that the only thing she was supposed to think about right now was that Jane was alone, and she hated having him snooping around her place- having semi-boyfriend material cold-read you on a first date was absolutely a no-no in her book. That was why it hadn’t worked with Walt. Among other things. 

“Lisbon? I know I said that reservations are at nine, but…” he shouted. His voice was close-too close-and, jumping, she realized he had to be on the other side of the door. That wasn’t good: the door wasn’t locked, and knowing Jane, there was a good chance that he was going to try to break and enter.

Just to find her in the nude. 

Frantically, she went once again through the clothes and the lingerie she had thrown on her bed, racy, classy and everything in between, asking herself what could compliment his outfit without looking too much like they were trying too hard to be an actual match. Of course, there was also the fact that he was charming and sexy: she wanted to impress him, too, just like he had done with her. 

Deciding to be brave, she took from her wardrobea dark green, knee length halter dress, and, after three long years from the purchase, she finally took the price tag off. She didn’t remember why she had felt compelled to buy that dress in particular (she firmly refused to believe she had chosen it only because he had once told her that nuance of green complimented her eyes) and now she was grateful she did.

She put some adequate underwear on- a strapless black lacy bra with matching panties- and grabbed some high-heeled sandals (already knowing that the next day would have been hell for her feet) and a black stole. It wasn’t really her style, and yet she felt like it was. How could she explain it? No-nonsense cop Teresa Lisbon liked to play dressed-up every now and then as well. She was a woman, and maybe it was time to show it to the world.

She hastily opened her bedroom door, finding that Jane was indeed there, and she smiled, trying to look as causal and calm as possible- when both things were impossible. He was too much. _It_ was too much. Everything she had ever dreamed since she had met him. And now it was reality. It was too good to be true. 

“Nice outfit. New?” She asked. But Jane didn’t answer. He just looked at her, _breast-level_ , with his mouth and eyes wide-open. He didn’t know if he was supposed to grin, whistle or just die on the spot. She was torturing him with sensual images she knew he couldn’t act on, the witch.

“Jane?” She asked, lifting his face with her right hand and forcing him to meet her eyes. “You all right?” She asked, clearly upset for him. That woman was a saint. He was a pervert walking and yet she thought about him. God. He wanted to take her in his arms, forget the reservations and make slow, gentle, sensual love to her all night long. And yet… he knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to her.

“Ugh. Why do you have to be so beautiful all the time? The things you do to me…” He sighed, and she smiled, blushing. He blushed as well, and barely resisted face-palming. He hadn’t wanted to say those things out loud. He had believed he was only thinking them, but then, Teresa had happened.

And Teresa was very good at taking away all self-control from him. Always had been.

“Shall we go?” She asked, taking his hand in her own. This was good. Jane wasn’t his usual self, sure of himself and egomaniacal. She could have a relationship with this Jane, who was as scared as she was. For once, they were equal in their relationship. They could navigate this waters together.

He had already opened her the car-door when Teresa shook her head, quite angry and annoyed. “Damn it. I forgot my purse. Only a moment.” She said, going back to her front door. But once there, she realized something.

She had put her keys in the black clutch purse she had left on her bed. The same purse she was supposed to get from home.

She went back to Jane’s car, and crossing her arms, extremely annoyed-with the situation and what she was about to ask - she knocked on his window. He opened the door and joined her, and he didn’t say a word, scared of saying something he wasn’t supposed to.He simply looked at her, scared that she would say she had changed her mind or something in that line.

They stared at each other for a good two minutes before she finally admitted what she needed. “You have to break and enter in my place, as I don’t have my keys and I can’t leave without them.”

“Uhm…ok?” He wasn’t asking, nor answering. He was a bit scared-part of him feared it was some kind of test- and he didn’t feel like being thrown out at the first date. And yet, he walked back to her apartment, and stopped dead in his track when, once on his knees, he saw what he was going to have to deal with. 

“So?” She asked him, abruptly, tapping a feet on the concrete.

He stood and shook his head. “So, it’s an armored, brand new, state-issued door.” He simply told her. She looked at him, sternly like when they were on a case and he didn’t want to behave. “I don’t have any idea how I am supposed to force this one.” He finally admitted.Teresa grunted, massaging the bridge of her nose.

“Ok, ok… Find me a big, heavy stone. I’ll do it the old fashioned way, breaking a window.” 

He reluctantly agreed to do as she was asking, and, when he joined her at the chosen window, he tried to throw the stone himself, with the result that he barely lifted it from the ground. Lisbon did it as it was the easiest task in the universe. Really. She definitely was going to be the one with the pants in their relationship- _if_ he could still talk her into having a relationship at all. 

The siren of the alarm started as soon as she was entering inside her apartment, forcing her way through the broken glass. . 

"A pressure sensible alarm? Seriously, Lisbon?" He asked her, following her inside as she run to turn the damn sound off and restore tranquility. She just half-turned, giving him a stern look, her fingers pressing the keys on autopilot. She wondered if he knew why she had state of the art security at her place. Didn’t he know that the last years had been terrible, that, before the killer’s demise, every night she was scared that Red John would take her again, but killing her this time, drawing a smiley in her blood? Maybe he did. Maybe he did not. Either way, she didn’t care. Updating security, she had felt a little better, and the feeling had stayed with her even when she had left her old place, even after Red John had been long death. Even now that she was an FBI agent working in Austin.

“You know what? Just stay here and wait for me. I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t touch anything!” Jane lifted his hands in mock surrender, and then went back to sit on the couch; but when she was already halfway to her bedroom, he called for her. She turned, but before she could even just look at her “partner” to see what was wrong with him, she heard at her back a _click_ , unmistakable- it couldn’t be otherwise in her line of work. 

The noise of a gun. 

"Police, freeze!" She lifted her hands just to be sure, and just like she had assumed here he was, at the end of the stairs, Jane with his hands up in the hair, and a young gun, a uniform who looked like a rookie- with trembling hands. She gasped and slowly joined them, scared that the kid could do something stupid, and then she stared at the fellow cop. 

“Officer, I think you are making a mistake…”

* * *

Over two hours after the rookie had entered her place, Lisbon found herselfsat in a corner of a small holding cell, with Jane inthe one next to hers, busy screaming that the guy had a made a mistake, and that they didn’t know who they were dealing with. 

She, on the other hand, had long ago stopped asking for anything.

The young cop had just brought them in, and said that they were to wait for his superior to come back before making their call. She had tried to explain him what was happening, but he hadn’t given her time to go and take her things, show him that yes, that was _her_ place.

God. Local police were just cry-babies. How stupid could you be, to believe that a woman dressed in a hundreds dollar silk dress could try to break into an apartment? Yes, she had seen her good share of crazy things, but this? 

“We need to call Cho.” Lisbon said, standing and starting to pace the cell. As soon as he saw her, Jane quieted, and looked at her like a lost puppy. Life wasn’t fair. He had tried to create the perfect date for her, be romantic and normal for once in his life, and that was the result. 

He was in jail- again. Only this time, it wasn’t because of something he had done, nor a complicated plot to get whatever he wanted. The opposite, actually.

“Do you remember his number, Jane? Because I just know the number at the office, but I doubt he’ll be there at this time of the night…” Actually, Jane didn’t think he was at home, but with any luck, he maybe had his mobile turned on. After all, they were on call that weekend, didn’t matter if the Korean now had a life and a proper girlfriend. More or less.

“It doesn’t matter if I know his number or not. That guy over there,” he said lifting his voice of an octave, almost shouting, “isn’t allowing us to call, no matter what!” The aforementioned “guy” came in their direction, crossing, stern, his arms. He really seemed like the kind of rookie who didn’t know about grey areas or mercy. Lisbon sighed, and for a second she wished to be in the same cell as Jane. That way, she would have-literally- kicked his ass. Getting the guy mad wasn’t going the help them. But apparently, Jane hadn’t understood it in over ten years working alongside the police.

“I told you already. Once my boss will be back, you’ll get your call.”

“We shouldn’t even have to call!” Jane tried to explain. Now he was talking like Agent Russel was a five years old. Great. No matter what, now he would have never allowed them to call until the next morning, boss or no boss. “C’mon! Do you seriously think that such a hot chick would put on a hundreds dollar silk number to break and enter?”

“Jane!” She shrieked, filled with indignity.Of course she was glad he had noticed the dress- and its effect on her body- but it didn’t mean he could get away with being a male chauvinist. Despite this, though, he shook his head in amusement. It was good to be back to bickering like an old married couple, just like old time’s sake.

“What? It’s the truth! And anyway, if he wants to confirm your story all he has to do is google you! We took down Red John and a criminal empire! We were all over the internet! Hell, he could even just give a look at my wallet. There’s my driving license there. My ID! All he has to do is read a name and then checking it out on that shiny new computer on that dusty desk of his!”

“Jane! Drop it, now!” She hissed. Why, oh why couldn’t her partner avoid being a jackass for just once in a lifetime? He was supposed to know he was getting them in troubles-he had over a decade of experience, after all.

“No, I am not! _He_ should drop this!” He said, looking at Lisbon, just to turn at the young officer, pointing a finger at him. “Like he should drop the annoying habit of smoking when he thinks no one is seeing. Are you blaming your co-workers when your girlfriend smells the smoke on your shirt when she wash them? Or… no, you are not. You are, instead… covering it, with perfume. Let me tell you something. I used to smoke, and all that commercials that say that their perfumes can eat away the smoke… they are bullshit.” 

Two seconds later, when the officer’s fist collided with Jane’s nose through the bars of the cell, Lisbon would have sworn she heardthe noise of broken bones. She clenched the bars, sighing. Now there was no way that they were going to be allowed to call for help before morning came. 

And it was also a pity. She had liked Jane’s new outfit. Too bad now it was all bloody and ruined.

* * *

The punch didn’t stop Jane from being his usual self; he kept annoying the rookie, until he had enough and called his boos, asking what he was supposed to do.Following his orders-that happened to be the same suggestions made by the blonde annoyance himself- he checked their stories, looked for them and saw that they were telling the truth. His name was Patrick Jane. Her name was Teresa Lisbon. And the place they had broken in was, indeed, _her place._

It was almost midnight when the rookie finally allowed them go, throwing at Jane his jacket. The cop looked at Lisbon, wondering if he was supposed to be a little bit gentler with a lady there, but then he dismissed the idea- if she dared to hang out with such a jerk like her boyfriend, she was probably just like him and deserved what came her way. 

“You know, as you’ve wrongfully arrested us, the least you could do would be driving us to the restaurant where we were supposed to have dinner three hours ago.” Jane was crossing his arms in front of the guy. Lisbon didn’t know if he was being serious or if it was some kind of show of twisted masculinity. Either ways, it wasn’t going to help them; masculinity didn’t affect her- especially if it was about the tea drinker, formally vest-wearing Patrick Jane- and if he was being serious, they were seriously risking being thrown in cell yet again.

“He was joking!” She said, taking him for an arm and forcing him out. “We are so sorry for the trouble you had to go through, officer! We promise we’ll not disturb you ever again!”

“What? No! He has to at least call us a cab!” Jane screamed in direction of the cop. But the guy didn’t hear him, as Lisbon had practically run all the way out of the station. On high heels. Her feet were killing her: Jane was going to pay. With interests.

“ _You_ will call us a cab, Jane. **_Now_**!” With each words, she hit with her index finger his chest, right on his heart. Now, he wasn’t exactly into sadomasochist games, but he had to admit it wasn’t so bad. Maybe it was the fact that it was _her_ touch, but it did nice things to his body. Things Lisbon had better to not discover, or else…

Sighing, he dialed on his new phone the cab company number; he hated this phone, hated the new technology, those touch-sensible phones, all screens and no keyboards. He should have never threw away his beloved phone: now that he was getting older, he was starting to miss it.

“Is it going to be long?” She asked, walking again and again in front of him, a hard expression and her arms crossed. She was even forgetting that she was wearing high heels, so mad with him she was. Jane sighed, and shook his head. He wanted to scream, wanted to say unholy things to whatever higher power was up there and was trying to ruin his attempts to romance and woo Teresa Lisbon. Yeah, he was an atheist and Teresa was a good, old fashioned Catholic. So what? He did have the right to try and win the heart of the woman of his life, dammit! He hadn’t wasted over twelve years of his life- _their lives-_ to wait for the both of them to be emotionallyand physically free just to have _this_ being thrown at him.

No! He wasn’t going to give up, not when the prize was _that_ close. So close that he could almost feel her lips on his skin, and her tiny hands wandering all over his body, and…

Ok. Maybe it was time to stop the sordid thoughts and wait for his fantasy to turn into reality without actually expecting for something to happen between the two of them right away. Of course, there was a small part of him that hoped that Teresa would be inviting him in at the end of the night, but not only his chances were getting smaller and smaller, but there was also the fact that he doubted that she would be sleeping with him after just one date. Even if they had knew each other for over twelve years, and been enamored for almost as long.

They waited for the cab to arrive for over half hour, staying in an awkward and uncomfortable silence. Lisbon kept walking at crossed arms, and every time he even just dared to open his mouth to try to explain himself, or just say something, anything, really, she threw him a dirty, lethal look that effectively shut him up every damn time. At one point, it even started to rain a little bit. Of course, it wasn’t enough to soak them, but rather a normally refreshing and enjoyable soft rain, but on that very night, it was enough to piss them off, as it was just another thing that could go wrong and indeed went wrong.

The cab arrived, and the driver grunted as he saw that they were going to wet his seats, but he didn’t say anything. Of course,Jane being Jane, he knew exactly what was going through the man’s head, but just a glance at Lisbon, and he understood that he was supposed to keep it quiet. She was mad enough without him making the driver crazy enough to drop them where they stood. 

“Listen, Lisbon…” He tried to say, but once again she stopped him. She turned her head and looked out of the window, and lifted a hand to instruct him like he was a baby. Jane sighed, and left the dead weight of his bodyfell on the seat.

“Don’t Jane, ok? I’m not in the mood. I am t tired, and thirsty and hungry andI just…” She took a big breath, and covered her face with her hands. Her voice fell a little, it was teary. “I just want this evening to end.”

“No, no, no, please.” He begged, getting closer and closer to her, just to take a step back when he understood that she didn’t like how he was intruding in her personal space. “Listen, I am a regular there. I am sure that Sylvie has kept my usual table… besides, the Orchid serves until 2 am.” 

“Oh, now he is a regular….” She mumbled behind her teeth, and Jane sighed again, shaking his head. He didn’t know what to do or say. Whatever he did, it was wrong.And now Lisbon seemed to believe he was a player and a womanizer who always had women having dinner with him in expensive and luxurious restaurants.

“I don’t know, Jane, it’s just that…”

He turned to look at her yet again, and he felt like a monster, but he didn’t know what else he was supposed to do, so he showed her his best puppy dog expression, knowing that she wasn’t going to be able to refuse him anything- there was a reason she was nicknamed Saint Teresa, after all.

“Ok, Ok! We are here anyway…” The cab stopped right before the entrance of the restaurant, and she sighed as she left the car. Jane took a big breath, hoping that things could still improve. He couldn’t have her bailing him out. He had to persuade her that life could be funny and happy with him, that he was as charming in reality as he was when he manipulated people to get what he wanted whenever he wanted on the job. 

She took the first few steps toward the entrance of the restaurant, while Jane approached the cab driver waiting to hear what he was supposed to pay; the guy, smirking, said an extremely high number, and Jane was about to lecture him, or something in that line, but then his gaze fell on Lisbon, waiting few feet from him. She looked young and fragile, and he knew he just couldn’t hurt her, couldn’t disappoint her any more. So he man up and decided to just pay, but when he put his hand in his pocket…

... he discovered her didn’t have his wallet with him any longer.

Jane swore, and hoped to really be a psychic and have real powers, so that the rookie cop could suffer a thousand evils, and then he looked at the cab driver. The guy was still expecting his money, nervously tapping against the wheel. One look told Jane the guy wasn’t anyone he was supposed to mess up with. His whole demeanor screamed dangerous- and not in afictional way. God. Why him, why that night? He was out on his own six days a week, and the only time he wasn’t supposed to screw up, he did. 

“Nice watch…” The guysaid, grunting.

“What? No! It’s an heirloom, the only thing my father left me!” Jane looked at his watch. He rarely wore it, but he liked the thing. Not because it was beautiful- the opposite- but for the sense of familiarity, because it had belonged to many Jane men before him, and a small, bastard part of him wanted another Jane man to have it after him- an half Jane, half Lisbon man, if possible, thank you very much.

“Well, man didn’t have taste. It’s not a waste, if I tell you. Besides, you know how they say…” The driver left the cab, and stood before Jane. His stature only confirmed the mentalist’s theory: _don’t mess with the cab driver_. “Better safe than sorry, right pal?” 

Jane gulped down a mouthful of saliva and gave him the watch, hurrying to get to Lisbon before she could change her mind and leave with the first guy she met.

“Everything is…” She asked when he joined her, and with an hand on the small of her back he guided her at the concierge. He put on his best smile, and started looking around for Sylvie. She was probably chatting with some VIPs or a regular, she often did, after all, her job was to keep the costumers happy, not only taking reservations. She had known him for quite a while, he was sure she wasn’t going to mind to put this one on his check and wait a couple of days to be paid. 

He noticed that Lisbon hadn’t finished her sentence; frankly, she didn’t know what to say.All right? Fine? Ok? Nothing was remotely fine, all right or ok. The night had been a disaster, and she feared what was about to happen. She didn’t even want to know what had happened with the driver, she feared the answer Jane would give her. A young woman, stern and very practical, approached them, and went behind the concierge desk. And as she did so, Jane’s smile vanished.

It wasn’t his night. 

“Hello…” He looked at her name tag on her pristine white shirt. “…Carol. I’m Mr. Patrick Jane. I was looking for Sylvie.”

“Sylvie’s home. I’m sorry… you said… Jane? As in our nine pm. reservation?”

He sighed at closed eyes. He knew that tone, knew what she meant. At the Orchid, they didn’t like empty tables. There was an urban legend going around, saying that whoever missed a reservation from the restaurant was to be banned forever and ever. He had never believed such a thing, but Carol was making him rethink it.

“Yes. And I swear to God, if you don’t want me here any longer, I’ll vanish from the face of the Earth. But please… we need to eat.” Jane knew that Carol wasn’t going to give up so easily, so he took Lisbon in his arms, and strategically put an hand on her belly. He hoped that Carol believed that Teresa could be expecting. And he hoped that Teresa didn’t mind his little white lie. The glacial blonde looked around, taking pity on the expecting woman, and Jane knew that he got her. He grinned at her with his most charming smile, but then, when she was already walking them to a free table, he did a colossal mistake…

“…Listen Carol, would it be a problem if I were to pay tomorrow? I am a regular costumer, as you noticed by the note close to my name, and I am sure that the director, Victor, wouldn’t have any problem at all…”

She stopped dead in her tracks, and turned to face them. “I am sorry Mr. Jane.” She said with a tone that said she wasn’t sorry at all. “But we aren’t allowed to make exceptions. If you can’t pay, please leave now, or I’ll be forced to call security.”

“What? No, Carol, Listen. I told you. I am a personal friend of Victor. I used to be his personal psych…” one look told him she was about to call the cops to denounce a fraud. People (women) normally shrieked like groupies when he said he was a psych. But not this one. He had to find the only one who didn’t. Just his luck.“Ok, fine. We are leaving.”

He was already on his way out, calling Cho, hoping that his friend was home or would have answered his mobile at least, when he heard someone calling “Teresa” with an unmistakable South Californian accent, with a voice Jane hadn’t heard in many years. He wanted to hit his head as he stopped and turned, and saw none other than Walter Mashburn approaching them. 

Teresa’s ex-lover. With his damn turtle-neck. There probably was a higher power at work, one who didn’t want for Lisbon to end up with him, because how many chances did they have of meeting, in _Austin_ , Walter Mashburn? 

Jane grunted when he saw Lisbon biting her lips, and smiling – and hugging- the man who had warned up her bed for a couple of nights in the past. The two of them were very friendly, but he wasn’t a stupid. Walter Mashburn didn’t do relationships, he did sex, and he didn’t seem to mind asking Teresa for a repeating perforce, even iffew years late.

“Patrick, you finally saw the light, I see…” Walter said, a hand on Teresa’s shoulder, his eyes fixed on hers. 

“Oh, no, no…” Teresa said, blushing. “We aren’t dating.”

Jane lifted his eyebrows. _Really?_ He thought that at least _this once_ he had been adamant about the whole thing. And she had been worried about her look, so she had to know it was a date. But then, why denying it, and with an ex? He knew what kind of pull Walt had with women, and he was aware of how much more suitable he was for Teresa, but frankly, he didn’t care. Teresa was _his_ , and if the enemy wanted to try any kind of funny business with his woman, he had to do it when Patrick Jane wasn’t around, at least.

God. Billionaires didn’t really know a thing about decency. 

Cho finally answered, and while Teresa and Walter exchanged a couple of words, he explained his situation to his friend. The agent agreed to go and get them, saying that, as he and “his girl” were close to the Orchid, he really didn’t mind. 

“Patrick? I am sorry, but I couldn’t help but overheard Carrie dear saying that you had lost your wallet… I was wondering… for old time’s sake, and to thank you and Teresa for the many times you risked a bullet for me… can I offer you dinner?” Mashburn had finally lifted his gaze from Lisbon’s breasts, and had met Patrick’s eyes. There was no denying that the bastard wanted to humiliate the consultant. He wanted back in bed with Teresa, wanted to make her wife number… five? Six? Whatever. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that Jane wasn’t going to allow Walt to win her back. Even if this date had been a disaster and Mashburn was everything that Jane had never been and was never going to be.

“No, thank you. Cho’s coming over, and I think we’ll leave the night as it is.” Jane smiled, a hand again on Lisbon. She tensed, clearly upset, or maybe just uncomfortable. But Jane didn’t matter. All he wanted was to show to Walt that yes, he and Lisbon were dating, that she was his. “Walt… it’s been a pleasure. And please… forget to call us next time someone is threatening you, all right?”

Jane didn’t wait for Teresa nor for Walt to reply, he just grabbed her and walked outside, where Cho was already waiting near his car. His new girlfriend, none other than Kim Fisher, was at his side, and she was saying something- something that made him smile. One second, and they were kissing, and Jane didn’t know if he was supposed to scream or cry. _That_ was how his night was supposed to end. Not like _this_. 

They reached Cho’s car, and the Korean just gave them his keys, holding hands with the brunette. She didn’t look like anyone he had ever dated before, in his years at the CBI, but maybe it was a good thing; he supposed they were both in for the long run. 

Well, it looked like another member of their surrogate family was going to get his happily ever after.

“You all right?” Cho asked, before walking away. 

“No.” Jane answered from the car’s window, no light in his eyes. He looked tired, old and defeated. Like never before. “Definitely not.”

He turned on the engine, and they drove away.

* * *

They drove in silence on the whole way back,and even if Teresa, every now and then, seemed to want to talk about something, every time she opened her mouth, it came out wordless. Jane didn’t even attempt to talk. He didn’t know what to say, and he feared that every word would have just deteriorated furthermore the situation. Begging her for another chance, to forget this whole night, seemed the only thing to do, and yet he didn’t want to seem too desperate. He knew what Teresa would have said to that, the same thing she had told him when he had attempted to ask her out on a date the second time, shortly after his first attempt.

“ _Jane, rightnow you are confused, and trust me,I appreciate that you’ve finally decided that you’ll move on with your life, but that’s not the way. You may think otherwise, but you just want me because I’m easy and convenient.”_

Easy and convenient. He resisted the need to snort, but only because Lisbon would have read it as an insult or who knew what. Ah. Easy and convenient, her. In what universe? And why? Because they worked together and they knew each other? That didn’t make it any easier- but thousands times more difficult. They had to consider work. The fact that they were friends. And the fact that they had friends and coworkers in common, people who could have easily felt the fallout of an eventual relationship (and/or breakup) between the two of them.

They finally reached her place, and Jane stopped the car and, like the perfect gentleman, he helped her out and saw her to her front door. He kept his hands in his pockets, eyes glued to the concrete, and stayed in complete silence, breathing in and out, the wheels in his head turning like crazy. He couldn’t do anything because he feared it could easily make it worse, and yet he couldn’t _not_ do anything, because that too could have made it worse. 

God. He hated his life. But this- with Lisbon, with _Teresa_ \- was the only life he cared about. The only one he truly wanted.

“Lisbon… Teresa, wait.” He called after her as she was opening her door using the spare she had given Cho in case of emergency.

She stopped, and turned, slowly. She was pale, her yes huge, her breathing accelerated. He didn’t need to be a mentalist or on top form to understand that she was waiting for something- _anything_. If he wanted to do something, now was the time. It was trying and maybe getting her, or keeping his mouth shut and being scared, a coward, and allow her to be a friend only, live with the knowledge that she wasn’t going to wait for him any longer, that she would move on with her life and he would be there to see it and be the supportive friend who maybe even walked her to the aisle when she was about to marry another man, one of the many who were waiting in line for her to just open her eyes and see them, just like that agent Pike they had worked with few weeks before.

No, he realized gulping down a mouthful of saliva. No, he couldn’t have any of that- not without trying to win her first. If she wanted to stay friends, so be it, but he wanted to be loud and clear about what he wished they could be.

“I know you couldn’t wait for this night to end but… Give me another chance.” He actually sobbed, and felt the start of a panic attack rising in his throat. He was going to hyperventilate if she didn’t give him her answer soon. “Please.” He added at closed eyes. He didn’t dare to look at her. He was too scared that she would just give up now, after everything that had happened and stood in their way, on that night and in the past twelve years.

He opened his eyes when he heard her chuckling- next to him; he saw her, standing on tip-toes and smiling. She wasn’t exactly happy, it was like a parent that had just lectured her kid and was now trying to explain them that she didn’t do it because she didn’t love them, but the opposite. He and Angela had worn that same expression many times when Charlotte was a kid, and he remembered it all too well. But his Teresa was an enigma; and he couldn’t help but wonder why she was looking with such an expression at him. 

“You know, there is a statistic somewhere.” She told him, crossing her arms and wearing a bright smile. “A first date between friends- _best friends_ especially- is always bound to be awkward and end in disaster.”

He replayed the words she just spoke again and again in his mind, slightly nodding. Lisbon couldn’t help but smile: sometimes, even if he was one the smartest men she knew, he could really look like a silly boy. “Is that your way of telling me there is going to be a second date? Because, don’t get me wrong, but I am kind of out of practice when it gets to women.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want for Lisbon to think he didn’t get her on a regular basis, or that he was somehow referring to sex. He _knew_ her, just, as much as he wanted to date her, he didn’t seem to be that good at it. “ _Dating_ women, I mean.” He even lifted his left hand for emphasis, where a tan line was still well visible where his wedding band had been until a couple of days before.

“I know, Jane, trust me, I know.” She told him, sweetly, her voice low and sweet, like honey or ambrosia, the nectar of the Gods, the only nourishment his wounded soul needed. “And believe me when I tell you that I thought that things would be worse. We didn’t have any kind of control on what happened today, so I am not going to take this in consideration.” She gave him a butterfly kiss on the corner of his mouth, lingering longer than socially acceptable between two people who were merely friends. “Besides, I have wished too much for this to let it go of you that easily.”

She parted, walking backward towards her door, never breaking eye-contact with a smiling and grinning Patrick Jane. The witch. She had left him speechless. He only found his voice when she was on her way to enter her place- and it was with a smile, and a bit of amusement, that he spoke next. “Lisbon? Would I be too arrogantif I were to ask you to offer me some tea?”

Lisbon stopped and looked at him, dumbstruck for a second; then, as she realized what he meant, she blushed, filled with indignity. _The ass_. Of course, Patrick Jane couldn’t talk like any other man. He didn’t ask to get some coffee at the end of the date to have an excuse to enter and master his seductive arts, no. He had to be his usual self and ask for _tea_ instead. Well, not that it actually mattered. She wasn’t going to allow him to enter anyway. She was crazy for him, had been for years, but she wasn’t going to give herself away to him on their first date.

Hands on her hips, she looked at him, definitely not amused by the innuendo. “Jane. I don’t care if it’s you and me. I am _not_ going to sleep with you on our first date.”

He chuckled. “Meh. We’ve known each other for over a decade. Didn’t hurt to try.” He shook his head and came closer and closer, until he was just a breath away from her. He stood there for few, interminable seconds, and then he descended upon her, his lips touching Lisbon’s for a sensual, sweet and quick peck that was over way too soon for her liking. “Goodnight, Teresa.”

“Goodnight.” She finally said, unable to look at him. She felt that if she did, she could jump him and have her wicked ways with him there and then. When she finally lifted her eyes, Jane was already entering his car, sing-songing _Patrick and Teresa, sitting on a tree, kissing, first comes love, then comes marriage…_

Smiling, Teresa realized that she was feeling butterflies in her stomach. It hadn’t happened in a long time. She giggled, feeling like a teenager in love for the first time. God, she wanted to write everything on her diary like she did when she was a child, and for a crazy moment she thought about calling Van Pelt and tell her everything about her boyfriend. Or maybe Kim- they both had a boyfriend now, and maybe they could compare notes, or just talk. Like normal human beings.

But maybe it was a discussion she could wait to have. Until her second date with charming, handsome and now emotionally available Patrick Jane- _her_ Jane.


End file.
